Destroyed
by MagicDancer1
Summary: A fire that never warmed him. A stone room that could never truly contain him. And a book full of words that could never truly describe his soul.


A/N: I own nothing but the plot and Serena. Harry Potter and Co. don't belong to me, but to the #1 Goddess of Writing herself, JK Rowling. You want em, ask her, maybe YOU can afford to pay a couple billion dollars for them. Now, READ!!! And, please, be nice and review.(  
  
Destroyed  
  
The slowly dying fire crackled in the hearth, a fire that barely helped heat the stone room. A room filled with silence. Silence and emptiness. The tall, thin man sank down in a green armchair in front of the fire. He sighed and tilted his head back, thinking. It had been a very satisfactory day. At least 12 deaths, and many others wounded. He smirked, just a little, as he thought of all the split up families, all the pain he caused.  
  
Before he got too involved in his thoughts, though, something caught his eye. A book. No, a journal. HIS journal, to be exact. Not a recent one, for sure, but still. Perhaps it would be interesting. More interesting than the Daily Prophet, at any rate. His long fingers slowly opened the faded black book. The pages were yellowed and crumbling. By the dim light of the hot orange coals, he could just make out these words:  
  
'This is the diary of Tom Riddle. Here lie my deepest secrets.' Upon turning the page, he read: 'Someday I will be great. They'll see. They'll ALL see. I will do something amazing that will make people remember me forever.' That page told of how he was teased and tormented. Called a freak by horrid Muggle children in his horrible Muggle orphanage. On his 11th birthday: 'Today I received my letter from Hogwarts! I cannot wait until the school year begins. Perhaps I can stay over the summer. We go to Diagon Alley in a week to get my supplies and an owl. I am so relieved to finally be getting out of here, at least for a day, and then, later, for a few months.'  
  
On and on it went, over getting school supplies, to being sorted. His first day at Hogwarts, to his first kiss. (Jan Pebbleston, of Slytherin. He hated it. 'Too slimy.') Then he came to an entry that when he had written it, didn't realize how much it would change his life. 'I have decided what I will do to be remembered. I will become invincible. No object will stand in my way. I'll move a mountain stone by stone if I have to, but I will become invincible. You can stake your life on it.'  
  
After that the entries were few and far between. All were mostly the same. Then came the entry that jogged the small bit of humanity that was left in Voldemort. His first love.  
  
'Serena amazes me. She's so beautiful. Long, raven hair, pale pink lips, blushing cheeks. Incredible eyes that are ever changing. Green, for happiness. Deep brown when she cries. Yellow like the sun, with anger. Light blue when she's taken by surprise, and dark blue when she's tired. The way she looks at me with those eyes.I just want to scream, and laugh, and cry all at the same time. Every time we touch I feel like climbing to the Astronomy tower and screaming "I love you, Serena!!!!!!" But I don't, I contain myself. And she's so smart! But she doesn't brag about it. She's liked by everyone. Serena could have any guy that she wanted, but she chooses me. So, I swear to God and every higher power that exists, if anyone ever hurts her, myself included, I will hunt them down and destroy their soul.'  
  
Voldemort looked up from this entry, tears stinging his glowing red eyes. He remembered Serena. God, did he remember. Every day, in between classes, after classes, they would meet in a secluded hallway. Then they would hole themselves up in an old, unused classroom and talk. They talked for hours. Sometimes the two of them would play games. Serena always beat him at Gobstones, but regularly got singed when they played Exploding Snap. She would help him with Transfiguration, and he helped her with Defense Against the Dark Arts (how ironic that that was his best subject). After a few hours the two would set off for their separate houses. Her to Ravenclaw, him to Slytherin. The next day they would do it all over again. Voldemort read the entry again. Then again. He knew that he had lost her because of his own stupidity. A mistake he made. A secret told, a life lost. And he had taken his vow seriously. He destroyed his own soul.  
  
That was the last time the human in Voldemort would ever show. After reading the entry again, he tossed the journal to the flames, which attacked it like ravished wolves. He watched the journal be consumed. Then, wiping away his last tear ever, he stood up and went on to do what he did best.  
  
Torture. 


End file.
